Monday, April 30, 2012
On why T.S. Eliot is full of hooey
It’s too soon to find out that you planted the wrong variety for your climate, or that you chose vegetables impossible to grow in your location. You won’t realize you’ve got root maggots for at least a few more weeks if not longer. It’s too soon to realize that months of excessively heavy fog beyond even what’s normal for your area has caused the content of 90% of your beds to give up the ghost while handing the keys to the fungal kingdom on their way out. In April the spring storms sweep the sky clear and the cobalt blue expanse overhead whispers promises and love songs.
I came back from a weekend away to find the garden in order. I know that wouldn’t happen in July. In July I would have come home to a catastrophic die-off due to an onslaught of something from the insect world, or rodents would have spent the 48 hours recreating Toronto’s underground PATH in my yard. But it’s April, so all is dandy. I even had some sunflower sprouts to crow about. I keep seeing ladybugs and ladybug larvae, and can’t decide if that’s wonderful because they’re good to have in the garden, or an ominous sign because they love to eat aphids and their presence indicates a food source. But it’s only April so I’m an optimist... for now.